Rhythm of Life
by StalkerPedoMario98
Summary: A cute preteen!sabriel story :3 hope you'll like it!
Sam sat feverishly in his bed as the intense slapping sound of drops hitting the tin roof continued to keep him awake. It had recently snowed, and couldn't be more than 29 degrees (Fahrenheit). He usually loved the sound droplets made when hitting his families current roof (a fairly nice motel they'd been snowed in at for the past few weeks), but the absence of such a sound and precipitation made it harder for him to assimilate. The snow had been so nice and gentle, not even once bothering his small ears with keen hearing to announce their homecoming.

His teeth chattered, the heater at the end of their room having stalled out a few hours ago after the others had gone to sleep, leaving Sam to be the only one awake in order to receive the full impact of the literal bone-chilling cold. He could see his brother's breathe puff out every time he took a deep sigh in his sleep, his mouth hanging wide open as if it were summer and he had no thoughts of keeping warm because the air around him did it for him - or it was supposed to. Sam rubbed his hands together and blew what hot air he could muster up from deep inside him into his palms; from what he could tell in the dim lighting of the motel room, they were turning an unsettling array of reds, purples and whites - like an all original Jackson Pollock.

Naturally in these situations he would wake his brother or father and inform them of the heater's breaking down, but for some reason he felt it wouldn't matter what he said to them. They'd just been through a dangerous collaboration of hunts the last few weeks (despite the snow) and desperately yearned - and earned - a good 12 hours of sleep. Sam was against robbing them of their time, especially since he'd just been lazing around the motel room and loitering in the stores next door while they worked their asses off. He figured it quite unjust, and it wasn't like he didn't want to help, but their father forbade him to work with them just yet. "Next year" he always said. Whatever. He was almost 11 and didn't understand why it would take another year for him to help them instead of being stuck by himself. It had been fine when Dean had still been by his side in the dull days alone in various motel rooms, but now that even he had grown from that and had been on his first hunt two years ago next month, it didn't seem quite fair.

Sam wasn't terribly anxious to get out and hunt (though it would be nice). He'd seen all too many times how roughed up and sapped of energy his father and Dean always seemed to be when they stumbled through the door. He never really got to play with Dean anymore because of that, and it made him feel even lonelier than usual. He'd even begun talking and singing to himself when they were gone. He found it not too unusual considering the circumstances; he was sure Dean would do the same, which made him feel even more comfortable doing so.

With all of this in mind and to keep his head occupied in the long morning hours, he remained sitting upright in his pull out bed on the floor below Dean's bed, his knees pulled tight to his chest which did its best to stimulate warmth. It would be a long night; too bad they started school again tomorrow.

At some point when the sun had been merely thinking of rising, Sam had slipped into a deep sleep. His dream was filled with odd things he wouldn't remember when he woke, which was just fine to him. He felt that keeping dreams in his head was just like smiling at the weeds in your garden.

His sleep was interrupted too soon, as it usually is for anyone, by his big brother's foot being shoved into his face. Waking with a muffled shriek, the first thing that rang in his ears was giddy laughter erupting from his brother's annoying face.

"What the hell, Dean!? You know normal people just yell to get others up, they don't stick their feet in other peoples faces!" Sam growled at Dean after the foot was removed. Dean shrugged lightly with a farcical smile, his teeth already brushed, freshly washed, gelled and combed hair, and fully clothed body sending Sam into a worried frenzy when he caught sight of his brother putting on a boot before Sam had rolled over in his pull out bed. He jumped up.

"Shit what time is it!? God dammit, Dean, why didn't you wake me up earlier, school starts in fifteen minutes!" Sam cursed after catching the time from the dingy wall clock, and Dean shook his head with a chuckle.

"Those foul words won't getcha anywhere, bitch." he chortled as he finished tying his other boot. Sam momentarily stopped what he was doing to give his brother one of his famous "bitch-please" looks.

"Don't be an asshole, jerk." he retorted as he ripped a comb through his messy and clumped up hair - granted he hadn't brushed it in a day or so. Dean waved him off and hauled his nearly empty back pack onto his shoulders. Luckily (for Sam anyway) , the school was not even a mile down the road - unfortunately for Dean though, who would be in his second semester of his sophomore year at the high school, had a much longer trek to make. Their dad had gone out on yet another hunt, and even if he hadn't he'd probably still be knocked out from the drunkenness he'd thrown himself into after they'd gotten back the other night, therefore they would need to walk either way. So after a few more minutes of preparation on Sam's part - and no breakfast because in all honesty they were a little broke and out of time at the moment - they headed out the door.

The new school Sam was going to was nearly bare on the outside, few cars piddling along the uncovered roads with snow built up around the sides like miniature white mountains. The trees were lined up very orderly and still held their own little mountain ranges atop their branches which weaved out into the spaces around them like arms reaching for something in particular, but forgetting what it was they were searching for. He felt like those trees far too often.

Stepping into the west wing of the two buildings they'd come up to, a tired smiling woman greeted them from a desk several feet from the sign in/out counter. Her voice was kind of raspy but she seemed nice enough. Before Sam could get out a word, Dean was announcing that Sam was new and needed to retrieve his schedule, his firm hand on Sam's shoulder. Neither of them were too worried about being in different schools - it happened ever since Dean had eventually slid into junior high after nearly flunking all of his exams in the 5th grade. He was intelligent, Sam was sure of it, he just didn't feel the need to show it in school. Every once and a while Sam would catch him working on homework and he'd smile to himself. He always knew he had it in him.

The woman asked for them to come through one of the side doors so she could hand it to him and explain a few things before sending him off. Dean stayed by his side the whole way, but as soon as he was forced to say goodbye, he pulled Sam's furry head into a headlock from behind and knuckled his head, making Sam growl in distaste and no doubt embarrassment. They soon parted ways and Dean was out the door, flipping the collar of his jacket up to prevent the wind from freezing his ears and neck. Sam assumed he only did it to create the illusion of being the big brother who was so big and cool and allowed to march off alone to his big kid school. Sam rolled his eyes as the boy disappeared into the forest beyond the furthest road, his boots kicking up snow like a plow. Sam knew Dean was just a big teddy-bear on the inside (though he'd kill Sam if he were to find out he thought of him that way).

Sam then scurried off to his first class, hoping the teacher would give him a break because he was new. First he had PreAP English with in...room 217; no sweat. He anxiously skimmed each hallway sign as he went, the number system almost befuddling him when he fortunately realized all of the evens were on one side of each hall while the odds were on the opposite; not too tough.

Finally finding his classroom, his knuckles rapped lightly, though nervously, on the thin glass window separating him from the rest of his classmates. He wasn't sure why he was getting all worked up - they'd moved around his entire life, and school after school it had been the same for him; sit in the back of the class, don't ask questions, learn, don't make friends (or enemies for that matter), and pass. Though he'd never been hunting with his family, he had learned how to defend himself, so if the enemy part ever became an issue, he knew how to handle it.

Suddenly the door opened, and there stood a bright smiling woman, her hair in a pixie cut and her eyes sparkling as if one of her students had just told a grand joke. He gulped and grinned back.

"Hi, I'm sorry I'm late - my name's Sam, Sam Winchester. I'm new here." he introduced himself quickly before she'd even registered to let him in. Her smile faded for a second then returned as though she reminded herself there was indeed a new student coming to her class that day. Her voice was smooth yet pitched a little high for his taste, though she seemed nice enough (that appeared to be a thing at this school). As he walked into her room, he did his best to ignore the stolen stares from his new set of pupils, and trained his senses on the sweet smell of the room. It smelled of apples and cinnamon spices, and the only source of light came from the active board at the front of the classroom, and a series of lamps tangled together and pointing at the ceiling, the shades being different inspiring colors. He usually liked English teachers' rooms - unlike a math teacher's room, English teachers seemed to enjoy decorating much more with posters of intricate innovative poems or colorful pictures. He knew that was just a stereotype that he'd happened upon many times in his years of changing schools, but he didn't mind it when it was true.

"...if you would like to have a seat behind Willow, the girl with the vine of flowers in her hair - that would be a perfect place for you for now until I get to know your learning habits." he heard 's voice and several classmates laughter waver in through his thoughts like leaves in the wind, and he shook his head slightly before smiling dazedly and letting his eyes finally roam over everyone with an excuse and finding the girl the teacher had so easily described. The girl reminded him of an elf from something like The Lord of the Rings or ...he remembered that awful movie he'd seen a year or two ago in another lonely motel room by himself - it (the movie) had been called "Elves", and he'd vowed to himself he'd never fall for this girl just in case...

Taking his seat behind her, spared him from making an introduction and jumped directly back into what she was teaching about without any explanation. The boy sitting beside him, he noticed from time to time throughout the remainder of class, was continuously staring at him while he wrote notes down in his spiral notebook. Sam did his best to pay attention to the lesson - whatever that was about, he eventually figured out to be on analyzing a poem they'd read last week (Sam and his brother hadn't been able to enroll until last Thursday due to weather situations and...other things they obviously couldn't divulge) which turned out to be the lyrics to a famous U2 song, "Pride (In The Name of Love)". He'd heard the song multiple times before, courtesy of his brother and father being totally infatuated with classic rock.

Once the bell finally rang, everyone - but him and the boy who'd been watching him - leapt from their desks and messily piled their things into their bags and hauled ass out of the classroom as if it were on fire or something. Sam slowly stood and warily though neatly arranged his things into his backpack, and the boy did the same, a nervous grin creeping onto his thin lips. He suddenly turned to Sam without a second thought.

"Hey sorry for seeming really creepy I just...I hoped you would be my friend. No one ever wants to be, so I can understand if you don't, but it was worth a shot anyhow since you're-" he caught himself before everything came tumbling out. Sam's eyebrows arched at the last part, but his own thin lips formed a kind of smile he hadn't worn for a very long time. "My name is Gabriel Novak by the way. Uhm, I'm sorry for disturbing you and if you don't wanna be friends I-" he had continued on, but stopped abruptly again when Sam had started laughing. A more comfortable smile found its way onto Gabe's face, and he ran a slightly sweaty hand through his already disheveled brown hair. His eyes were a golden brown and gave him the impression of having a tremendously unique and outright attitude; Sam almost wanted to call him a Trickster - one of those 'unknown reason' things popping into his again. Sam nodded at the boy's shaky introduction and sarcastically acted like he had to think about being friends with this pompous though somehow timid kid. Gabriel waited intently, and Sam eventually smiled and nodded. Gabe clapped his hands and they started walking out of the class together before too many other people came in and demand they move away from their desk.

It was official though - they were friends.

"So where do you go next?" Gabe asked, his climatic apprehensiveness numbed for the moment as they walked down the thinning hallways. Sam checked his schedule to find it telling him to go to Math 7 with next, which he also informed Gabe of. Gabriel sighed in disgust, but perked a little when they realized their classes were right next to each other.

"Sit in the very back and listen for me." he told him briskly before they went their separate ways. Sam entered the classroom a moment or two before the bell (an odd sounding thing it was, giving out a resounding four short pips and a long fifth one like Morse Code or something) rang and slid into a seat at the very back between a small girl with a serious appetite for gum, and large redneck boy who definitely had the hankering for something that didn't smell or sound like gum. Sam scrunched his nose at the both of them, but when he had to lean to see the board, he leaned toward the girl - she was kind of cute if he looked past her loud chomping jaws.

A few minutes after things had settled down, there was a small series of tapping on the only non-cement wall in the room behind him. He nearly jumped in his seat at the harsh sound of it, practically scaring him out of his skin. He knew he should've expected something like that from a guy like Gabe, but he didn't know him that well. He used this to promptly excuse himself from his silly fright.

Not even a minute later he received another few knocks on the wall, the beats resembling a rhythm he could've sworn he'd heard somewhere. When he still hadn't responded, the knocks came louder but slower, and Sam finally got it; he was drumming the rhythm to "Pride (In The Name of Love)" from their English class. He smiled and tapped it back to let the other boy know he recognized it. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy his time at this school. He couldn't help that he'd made a friend against his father's orders - perhaps it would hurt harder when they left, but Sam reckoned he could handle it. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd gone against his father's orders when it came to school.

The tapping session ended halfway through class and Sam felt a bit sad when he no longer received an answer knock as they'd been working their way through the rest of the song. When the bell rang for the ending of the class period he waited just outside the other classroom door to find a smirking Gabe being talked down to by a stern, older teacher. Gabe's gaze wandered and when his eyes rested on Sam (who at that moment hadn't been paying attention) his eyes softened and a dreamy look overcame him, making the teacher even more fed up with him after following his gaze. Sam turned to find the both of them looking at him and he blushed, looking away again. The teacher sighed and turned Gabriel loose, allowing him to head to his next block. He sauntered out of the room, the dreamy look gone and replaced with a cool look like he owned the place.

"Don't worry, she's just a sub. usually doesn't care what I do - I became her favorite really easily last week cause she had my older brother Castiel a few years ago, and before him a few other brothers and sisters in her class years ago - according to her she thinks all Novak kids are 'little angels'. She hasn't really met me though - she's been out sick, I think. is a bitch though." he snarled, throwing a look of pure disgust over his shoulder as they rounded a corner. Gabe suddenly pulled them aside for a second, his hand darting up to a top locker lock and began turning the knob. He opened it and pulled out a large text book that said "Science" in eccentric lettering surrounded by pictures of different science related things, including a tiger's head poking out from jungle leaves, and a poisonous dart frog hanging onto a branch and looking up into the camera like it was the most harmless, cutest animal on Earth. Sam knew that compared to some things on Earth (and not), rubbing its little head would be far less painful than what could happen to some one with the other not so cute creatures.

Shaking the thought from his head, he realized a few seconds later that in the midst of Gabe grabbing his text book, he'd asked Sam where he was headed to next. Sam hurriedly looked at his schedule and answered that he had science with next, and Gabe nearly squealed with excitement.

"I'm guessing we have her together?" he asked with a surprised laugh, letting his hand fall onto the other boy's shoulder to calm him down; unbeknownst to him, but it made Gabe even giddier. Sam's touch was like lightening coursing through Gabriel's nerve system, his happiness skyrocketing. To keep himself from cupping Sam's cheeks in both hands and kissing his adorable, puppy-eyed face off, he instead grabbed his wrist while slamming his locker shut, and they headed back down the hall where the English class was and across from it, the science rooms.

Science class went by in a flash - they discussed the food chains of three different animals which they consulted in their text books. Gabe (over-willingly) allowed Sam to share his book with him until could find an extra for him to check out. They mainly chuckled at the things which both Gabe and other previous users of the book had drawn and written among the pages of endless and seemingly useless information.

By the end of that class period, Sam started to feel something for a particular person; a girl that sat to his left in which he had to (at first unwillingly) partner up with according to the teacher's choosing. Gabe had looked absolutely repulsed at the partnering (he was forced to work with a boy to his right) and constantly stole glances at Sam throughout the group work.

The girl's name was Jessica - Jess for short, she had told him. Her rosy cheeks and wavy dirty blonde hair had his mind in a tizzy. She was nice and her dimples reminded him of the ones he sometimes saw in the mirror - if he were ever to smile in front of one, though that hardly ever happened since he figured he wasn't all that much to look at anyways. She batted her eyelids at him here and there, and he found himself laughing with her when she made a pun about the jungle or what-not. He hated himself for doing so, but he also got her number before class had ended - more like she'd grabbed his wrist before he'd turned to grab his things as the bell rang and sloppily wrote it on his hand in sharpie. He smiled ear to ear at her and she laughed at his goofy look, asking him to text her tonight if he could. He explained with a droopier grin that he'd only be able to call because he couldn't afford a phone at the moment. She nodded understandingly and told him to call whenever. He agreed he would, and they parted.

Gabriel whirled around to him, his hair in a furious mess and his eyes wide and wild. A forced smile rushed to his lips like blood in a fresh, deep cut, and he grabbed Sam's other wrist, writing his own phone number on his other hand just as Jess had done a moment ago. His smile turned brilliant then when Sam gave him his own smile that appeared to be reserved for only Gabe. Gabe blinked fast as he turned away to gather his things together, and they walked out of the classroom.

The rest of the day went swimmingly - the only other class they had together out of the five they regularly do, was gym and band which came next to last in periods, but those two classes were on an A day (gym) and B day (band) schedule, that day being A, so gym was adjourned. Sam was given his change-out clothes and joined Gabe near the back of the locker room to change. He felt several hidden eyes (including Gabe's uncovered ones) on him as he removed his shirt. He'd forgotten he should've been changing in the stalls like he usually did, but had lost track of himself in the midst of all the friendship Gabe had been spilling out onto his lap throughout the day.

There on his smooth, milky white skin, rested scars and burn marks that hadn't fully healed even after 10 years. He desperately desired to cover them immediately, but thought it weak if he did, as if he had something to hide - which in a way he did, but no one around him would ever know, and he figured they wouldn't be in the town long enough for him to properly tell Gabe. He secretly yearned to tell the boy everything that had happened to him (another instance of rebellion from his father's strict rules) just to get it all off his chest. He could always continue complaining to his brother about everything, but he'd learned when he was 6 that that got boring all too fast.

The rest of the gym class was filled with something he'd done a few times before at a several other schools in his past years called "The Pacer". The two dreaded words that slipped from the lips of the ironically high-granular gym teacher, and turned into their sweat that was soon making their shoes squeak on the gym floor. (a/n: If you don't know what I'm talking about then look it up cause you're one lucky ducky) Sam and another boy were the only ones left at the 50 mark, and he didn't feel himself slowing down any. He hadn't told his father or brother, but when they were away, he'd lock up the room they were staying in, and if the neighbor was respectable and scrupulous enough, he'd go for an early morning run. Sure it must be odd if anyone is out at that time and happened to see an 8 or 9 year old kid running down the road with his beat up CD player playing Jamiroquai's "Virtual Insanity" with his torn, but somehow still working ear buds plugged tightly into his ears like he were getting ready to do some early morning mowing to keep the lawn (that they didn't have) looking reputable for the day. What a sight; especially since Sam had never owned a lawn in his life, much less mowed one.

He glanced over to see the other kid's face turned a deep red, sweat oozing from his skin like that was the only stuff he were made of - sweat, blood and tears. Had running really come to that? Sam scoffed lightly at the boy as he continued the none to enjoyable dash back and forth across the gym, intently listening for the beep. He could taste the bile swishing around in his mouth and throat, the flavor driving him mad to spit it out - but he couldn't merely do so on the floor. If he were outside then it wouldn't matter, but he wasn't outside, so it did. The woman's voice rang jaggedly with the thumping of his heart, announcing that it was the end of level...what had she said? 15? He couldn't be sure. He'd been running and focusing so hard on the floor and shadows, to take time to listen to the woman would be just silly. The caged hanging lights above him in the convex ceiling bedazzled the shiny floor with their brilliance, twisting and turning his shadow according to the direction he pivoted his body when he came to the line and was forced to immediately dart back. Soon the beeps became unbearably close, even for him, and his face was as red as a tomato. No one really acknowledged him, but they didn't speak either. Every once in a while he'd hear Gabe's familiar voice peep up from the constant rushing of blood in his ears and he'd shout out an encouragement. He usually tried to smile when the other boy did so, and he'd hear clapping when he did. That Gabriel was a strange kid.

On his way down to the opposite side of the gym away from the crowd of boys who'd been (while one still was) running or keeping track of how many their partner had ran, the beep rang through his ears a foot before he made it to the line. He immediately spun around, using his right ankle to support the most of his weight - or he at least tried to. It seemed his small weight, speed, and intense accuracy got the better of him, or rather his ankle, and he could have sworn he heard the muscles scream as he twisted around. Perhaps his ankles didn't scream, but he sure did after a shot of white hot pain flared in his ankle and his valiant attempt to swivel around turned for the worst. Everything seemed to slow down as he found himself falling...falling...down...his arms and hands flailing out before him, doing their best to instinctively prevent his fall from becoming even more harmful to his body. That also turned for the worst. As he landed on the floor, his arm got caught underneath his stomach and the hard wood floor, causing a sickening snap to erupt from his fore arm. A long line of cuss words stood waiting at the edge of his teeth, and one by one, though fast, they were sent out on their journey to avoid being heard by the teacher and the rest of the students as every thing caught up in time and people began running to him after a moment of silence. Sam didn't remember much, but he knew Gabe had arrived first on the scene, his worried friendly face blurred and blacked out as Sam was flipping over, the lights above them all blaring like a rock concert for his eyes. It hurt, too. Every thing hurt. His head hurt, his mind heart, his arm hurt, his heart hurt, his ankle hurt, his lungs ached for fresh air - the only thing that didn't hurt would be a place it would hurt the most. Many would consider him lucky for that saved bit, but he thought luck was stupid. If someone were to say, "Gee they sure are lucky to get out alive!", he would remark, "If they were lucky, it wouldn't have happened to them in the first place." He couldn't understand why people didn't understand. He figured it must have something to do with all the time he spent alone. With this last thought in mind, he found himself blacking out, dots appearing in front of his eyes and dancing the samba. The pain ebbed and he could remember nothing more on until he woke up laying in the safe comforts of an unfamiliar hospital bed.

Gabe insisted on accompanying his new yet surprisingly close friend to the hospital on the ambulance. The school had attempted calling the father, receiving only voice mail, so instead they phoned the high school to have Dean picked up and brought to the hospital immediately. Gabe gripped Sam's soft sweaty hand in his, tears forming in his eyes as he watched the other boy's chest rise and fall slowly as if he were in a deep sleep. He was glad Sam had passed out from the pain - the more pain he felt, the worse it would be, so this way had to be easier - he hoped. Arriving at the hospital in less than five minutes (everything in town was pretty close by, thank God), Gabe was quickly escorted out of the ambulance as the other EMTs wheeled Sam from the back and into the ER. The man who'd helped him hop out asked him to wait in the waiting room and let them know when the brother showed up. Gabe agreed (of course) and sat in a waiting chair, his legs not long enough to touch the floor, and instead swinging them nervously as he awaited the news - and the brother.

A few minutes later, a boy burst through the ER doors and ran up to the receptionist desk and frantically demanded the receptionist tell him where his little brother was. The woman raised her eyebrows and pointed to Gabe, informing him to ask the boy because he was the one to ride over with him, and the orders had been given to him, not her. The older boy whirled around, his eyes wild and filled with all intentions of preforming any non-pragmatic actions to get to his little brother. Gabe's eyes widened at the teenager's, and he was suddenly towering over the small boy, this most concerned look painted on his face.

"Where the hell is he, kid?!" the brother growled at him, and he shrunk in his seat, his lower lip sticking out in fright. Gabe then straightened himself and grabbed the other boy's wrist, tugging him from the waiting room and to the long hallway of ER rooms. He directed him to the one with the familiar EMT standing at the doorway, his back to them. Gabe came up behind him and pulled on the man's coat sleeve, and the man turned around, his earnest and stale expression mixing into one of consternation and amiability.

"Hey! You must be Dean, Sam's brother. He's in here - he hasn't fully regained consciousness, but you both can either wait in the waiting room or by the bed side while the doctors and nurses fix up his arm and ankle. That sound alright?" he asked when he noticed Dean's face was still twisted in desolation and trepidation. Gabe nodded in agreement for the both of them and asked to be let inside the room. The EMT man who's name tag he'd caught glimpse of to say "Jim", nodded at them with a charismatic smile, letting them slide between him and the door frame.

There on the crisp white sheets laid what seemed to be an angel. Gabe gawked at the boy under the light of the close examining lamp, all the features in his face illuminated and given a glowing effect. Dean rushed to his side, gripping the boy's unhurt hand just as Gabe had done in the ambulance. He became slightly covetous, but brushed the feeling away when he realized how ridiculous he was acting; Sam and Dean were brothers after all.

Sam's arm was being repaired at the moment, a delicate handed nurse easily flipping the gauze around and around his arm which already had a thick bandage constricting it. His head laid facing upwards towards the ceiling, his mouth agape as if in the process of a tremendous snore. Gabe sat by and intently studied how Dean's thumb traced his younger brother's knuckles, and that his eyes were trained on Sam's face. The air around them, though a bit tense, was unfrequented and untroubled, forcing Gabe to struggle to keep his heavy eyelids open. The day had been long and wasn't even over yet, which made him feel even more wasted. He wished only to crawl into a warm, comfy bed (preferably with Sam) and cuddle someone (again, Sam, just saying).

Once Sam's arm was finished, and a nurse adamantly tended to his ankle, a Doctor approached Dean with a clipboard clenched firmly against his chest. From when Gabe caught a glimpse of his expression, he sighed and let himself relax back in his chair. The doctor addressed Dean and he looked up at the man as he towered over him and his brother. He asked what it was, and the doctor answered cheerily that Sam, as reported, would be perfectly OK, but he recommended lots of sleep and to keep him off his feet and from using his injured arm for nothing more than writing for at least three weeks. Dean agreed with an audible sigh and a defeated grin, nodding his thanks to the doctor before the man left. Before exiting the door however, the doctor stopped and mentioned that they'd gotten a hold of the boys' father, and he would get here ASAP. Dean grinned and nodded with a polite thanks, but when the doctor disappeared, his eyes released the mask he seemed so comfortable with, the vibrant green becoming shadowed and crestfallen once more, and his mouth twisting into a heartsick frown. Gabe's eyebrows came together at Dean's inconsolable turn of mood.

Sure enough, ten or so minutes later a large burly man sauntered through the door, his face frozen in the usual "parent concerned for their child" look. His was admittedly much more stricken and almost...disappointed?! Gabe was taken aback by what he thought he saw, and hoped he was wrong. The father hurried into the room and went to the crippled side of Sam's body, kneeling near his still motionless head and started muttering inaudibly into his ear. His breathe was so expeditious and appeared to be consumed with such vitriolic spark, that Gabe and Dean noticed Sam's eyes twitching spasmodically underneath the safety of his closed eyelids. Dean leaned further in, and Gabe's own eyes caught on a necklace that swayed into view from hanging around Dean's neck. It was an odd little trinket and he figured it must have some sort of personal value, or else he probably wouldn't be wearing it; Gabe was able to tell at least that much about Dean from just the little time they'd been in the same room.

Sam's face began twitching, and suddenly his eyes sprung open to reveal his own bright hazel eyes. Dean and Gabe's breathing both hitched in their throats when he became animated. Sam almost legitimately resembled an animatron or a robot being booted up. Next his mouth slammed shut, his teeth clashing together with a sickening crack.

Dean's hand remained gripped in his, their fingers laced quite awkwardly as Sam's fingers began fidgeting as if he were trying to learn how to feel with them again. Gabe came into Sam's line of sight with an anxious smile plastered on his crumpled face. Sam discontinued his frantic antics as their eyes met and locked onto each other, a small smile forming on his own lips. All the while the boys' father had slumped away from his son when he'd awoken, but one of his hands still clamped down on the edge of the bed. Gabe moved forward then, his eyes low yet still on Sam's as he advanced. He finally came to the end of the boy's bed and rested his body there by leaning against the end table. Sam cleared his throat.

"Thanks for coming to my aid, but you didn't have to stay with me to the hospital!" he spoke with dignity, his voice still a bit shaky. Gabriel waved him off.

"Oh yeah right because I totally wanted to be left behind back in the gym with those losers. This is where the party was at, so how could I refuse to join in?" he parried wittingly, wiggling his eyebrows at the other boy, making him laugh. The father glanced up suddenly, his face filled with wonder and hope at the beautiful ringing sound of his boy's apparently long vacant laughter as it consumed the atmosphere, the mere resonance of it eating up as much angst and wariness as it could in its short lived life. The father almost had grin on his bearded lips, and the darkness in his eyes lifted and suddenly fell back once more as soon as Sam's laughter had stopped. The room laid restful once more as silence returned.

After several moments of the reported silence, the same doctor from before reentered the room, his clipboard currently hanging lazily in his hand at his side. He said hello to the boys' father who's name was John, and explained what he'd already explained to them. He would also be able to take Sam home as soon as he liked. John thanked him and the doctor left. Gabe didn't want to leave Sam's side, already feeling very attached to him. He was surprised to how attracted and accustomed he was to a boy he'd only met that morning, but he couldn't help it; it was as if the fates had made them for each other. He wasn't all too sure whether that was just his needy 7th grade mind speaking up or if it was actually true, which was the main source to his predicament.

It seemed as if in the blink of an eye, Sam was gone, and he was walking down the sidewalk hand in hand with his older brother, Cass. He didn't know where Sam had gone and how they'd all disappeared or shifted so carelessly and easily before his eyes, but he didn't like it one bit. He was sure though, that he'd be seeing Sam soon, and maybe he'd find out where his house was. The rest of his day he spent in the solitary of his room, day dreaming of Sam and his thin lips which sprung loose all his spark filled words like they were imprisoned in his head. He eventually fell asleep, his stomach empty (once again) but his heart full.

Sam hadn't fallen asleep after they'd gotten home, but rather he stayed up until late into the night reading a book called "Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment". It intrigued him how kids his age were able to do all those things with wings and obtaining special powers and such. He wished he weren't special. He knew he was special, but he couldn't put his finger on exactly what made him so. He was sure he'd find out sooner or later - hopefully later.

Once he finally did fall asleep though, he was woken by his internal clock, which crowed at around 5 in the morning. Sometimes he would obey it, while other times it was the last thing he heard in his head before conking out again. When he woke this time, the sun's rays were screaming at his eyes and willing him to rise from Dean's bed (since his injuries that day before, Dean had graciously given up his much more supported and comfortable bed to his crippled little brother). He groaned aloud and realized then that if the sun were in his face...why wasn't he at school?! Perhaps it had snowed again and they'd called it off - then where was Dean? His back pack was gone...he couldn't just skip school! Sam was notorious (to himself) to have a perfect attendance to all his schools - it was just how he rolled. Missing a day of school for him was like a conscientious worker slipping up on the job and costing billions of dollars in debt for the company they employ. If he'd known his day would turn into a nightmare, he would have simply faced the other way in his new bed and curled his mind back into the open fingers of his dreams like the helpless baby he saw himself as.

Instead, he decided to attempt to seduce his ever growing urge to jump from the bed and go for a run by switching on the TV. When it crackled to life, the show that was airing had something to do with these weird old guys who...hunted? Strange and far too familiar for Sam's taste. He changed the channel to MeTV where Star Trek was playing. He wasn't all knowing with the show, so he figured he could muster to hunker down and learn a few things from Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and the rest of the crew. He assumed it was at least more entertaining than tennis, and less subliminal than Disney Channel.

Late into the afternoon Dean returned home while Sam was making a PBJ sandwich for lunch. When Dean strolled in he gave his little brother a quizzical glance, but otherwise ignored him as he approached the TV and changed the station to Cartoon Network where "Adventure Time" was currently showing. Sam never fully understood the concept of Adventure Time and guessed the writers and artists were high when they made it. It was like watching The Monkees "Revolution" or "Head" specials. Trippy as all get out.

Sam smushed one piece of bread on the other with one hand before the jelly on one could fall off. He didn't bother grabbing a plate as he awkwardly hobbled over to the bed, his ankle flaring with new found pain whenever it met with the floor. Dean eyed him, a smirk playing on his lips. As Sam eased himself onto the bed, Dean asked him how he was.

"Just grand, Dean, thanks for asking. How are you?" he retorted irritably as he leaned over and rubbed his hurt ankle. The smirk fully appeared on his brother's face then, and he rolled his eyes.

"I'm great, Sammy thanks. Glad to see you're the same cheery guy you usually are." he noted sarcastically, running a hand through his hair as he laid back against the head board of their father's bed.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Hey when is dad supposed to be back? I think I remember seeing him at the hospital, and you guys drove me here, but then he just disappeared again. The case he's working on must be pretty pressing." Sam remarked, as he finally got himself settled and reached for the sandwich he'd all but forgotten on the bed side table. Dean glanced over at him and shook his head, his face placid.

"I dunno, Sammy. Whenever he gets things situated, I guess. Who knows." he answered wistfully, and his eyes wandered over to the blinded window. It was started to rain again, and thousands of droplets clung to the glass, several sliding down it like a 90 degree slide. Sam took a large bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly, taking in the zesty taste of the strawberry preserves, mixed with the Peter Pan creamy honey roasted peanut butter he'd also slathered on. His tongue flicked around in his mouth, aiming to pick out all the stray bits from his gums and teeth to throw it down his throat to join the rest of the sandwich. He nearly choked on his next bite when a loud knock came from the door. Dean straightened and smoothly swung his feet to the floor, his body rigid and his whole complexion gone into defense mode. He moved stealthily towards the door, grabbing a pistol from on top of the TV cabinet and flicked the safety off.

When he reached the door he pressed the end of the barrel against the door and twisted the knob, his trigger finger inching its way onto the trigger. Once he saw who it was though, he groaned aloud and flicked the safety back on the gun and tossed it in Sam's direction. It landed on the couch but bounced off, making Sam wince when it hit the floor with a loud thud. As he opened the door he sat back on his heels and threw a glance with rolled eyes back at Sam, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Heeyyy Gabriel! Its Gabriel right? Oh, Gabe, alright sorry sorry - say what are you doing here exactly? You wanted to see Sam? Really?! Ugh, fine he's in here..but he's a serious grouch so I don't see what the point is..." Dean opened the door wider and let Gabe in, and Sam's eyes met his. There was something about that wide, golden eyed boy that excited Sam in ways he would've never thought possible. Dean coughed.

"Hey, Sammy, it kinda stopped raining so I'm uh...I'm gonna go walk around town. If you need me just call." he added, waving his cell phone (Dean and their dad were the only one's who were able to have phones for emergency reasons) in the air and Sam nodded, a grin spreading across his face.

"Hey Gabe - was that guy you were walking with...Castiel? He's a year older than me I think and I was merely wondering..." Dean paused before walking out, and Gabe laughed and nodded, confirming the older brother. Dean stuck out his lips in an approving notion and nodded as well before pulling the door shut behind him. They were alone.

"Hi Sam, sorry if it seems really creepy that I showed up here uninvited, I just wanted to see how you were doing." he grinned shyly, twiddling his thumbs as he approached Sam who was still propped up on his bed. Sam shook his head with a chuckle.

"Its fine, Gabe, really. I like your company anyways. What do you wanna do?" he asked the other boy, folding his hands in his lap with an eager grin. Gabe angled his head towards the ceiling and held his chin with his hand, stroking the skin just below his lip.

"I dunno! What do you wanna do?" he asked, sending the endless decisions back to Sam when none came to him. Sam huffed loudly in exaggeration and threw his hands in the air. He had no idea either. Whatever it was that they would do, it would have to deal with not too much moving around. Gabe agreed and sat on the end of Sam's bed, his eyes sparkling.

"Well, I was kind of hoping you'd tell me about yourself..." Gabe's eyes quickly flitted around Sam's face when he wasn't looking and they settled on his lips. He wasn't sure why, but they seemed special, like there were none others like them. Sam's eyes suddenly faced him again and his own jumped back up to his eyes. Sam sighed and said he wasn't sure they knew each other well enough to do that. Gabe understood and suggested he could come back tomorrow after school and actually bring them something to do, and Sam smiled widely, saying he would appreciate that; and with that he left rather fluently. Sam sat in his bed and closed his eyes, Gabe's goodbye ringing in his ears.

(warning : it gets a little ick here with stuff and sad things so just be on your toes about it)

Dean returned very late that night (he'd visited a certain friend for unknown reasons to Sam) to find Sam curled up in the bed, wearing nothing but his underwear. Dean thought that was odd considering they still hadn't fixed the heater and it was nearly 30 degrees outside, so he moved closer in order to draw the thin sheets around his little brother's small body. That's when he realized something was wrong. His hands felt for the corners of the sheets, almost immediately touching something wet and sticky. He drew back his hands slowly, then carefully flicked on the side table lamp. His hand was bathed in the dim light, giving it a sort of harsh red vibrancy, and his head snapped over to the small body which breathed very slowly and barely stirred in the dimness of the motel room.

"Sam? SammY?! SAM!" he growled worriedly after turning back to him. He gently pulled Sam around to face him and Dean sucked in a breathe. There were scratch marks - not too terribly deep by the looks of them - all along both his face and chest. There was so much blood though that the bed sheets under him could no longer soak it up, so it was just pooling up to form a little puddle. Sam's eyelids were lazily closed and his face was extremely pallid. He at first thought to frame the kid, Gabe, who'd been there earlier, but it just didn't seem to fit. He'd been too nice and there was no way since his brother was so...never mind. Dean's vision began to blur as he clumsily pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. Why did Sam keep getting hurt?! After getting off the phone, he did his best to use the shirt off his back and wrap it around Sam's skinny chest to ebb the continuous flow of blood seeping from the boy's body. Dean's mind was racing.

An hour had gone by and the medics still hadn't arrived. He dialed his dad and the man answered on the last ring, his voice ragged and tired.

"Dad you have to come quick, Sammy's hurt real bad and and I called 911 like an hour ago and they still haven't come and I'm so fucking scared Dad please come quick!" he started to choke on his words, and there was a moment of silence on the other end. "Where are you, Dean - where's Sam?" he asked with a controlled tone, but Dean could tell he was barely keeping it together - just as he was.

"We're in the motel room. I...I got back late and found him in the bed soaked in his own blood. He's breathing but not responding DAD WHAT DO I DO!?" he hissed his question when he felt Sam's breathing weaken even more if possible. He heard his father's breathe hitch in the back of his throat and the sound of the Impala starting in the back ground.

"J-Just hang on alright?! I'll be there even if cops are chasing my tail I'll be there just keep him alive you hear me Dean!? Anything you have to do..." he wavered off, the engine revving like Dean had never heard it do before.

"How long will you be?" Dean asked in a hushed voice, chills crawling up his spine and settling on the back of his neck like thousands of venomous spiders; if he made a wrong move, they'd all bite at once. More silence on the other end.

"Give me 20 minutes." John answered a few moments later, and Dean drew in a shaky breathe, his blood crusted hand clutching the phone tighter with every slow beat of his baby brother's heart.

"OK..I'll- we'll see you then." he acknowledged, and they both hung up. It was going to be a long night.

15 minutes later, their father burst through the door, his hands clenched into fists and an officer trailing behind him with a walky-talky wrapped in his gloved fingers. Cold air scrambled through the room and reached the two boys who hadn't moved since Dean had gotten off the phone with John. The other two men hurried over to them, John crouching beside Dean and taking Sam in his ginormous arms. The officer gave details of Sam's lacerations through the walky-talky and reported that he was going to take the boy in himself. He got word that the ambulance had been mysteriously averted to the wrong address. The officer rolled his eyes when he heard they'd somehow ended up at the mayor's house. Of course.

John carefully pulled Sam up close to his own chest, cradling his seemingly weightless body in his arms as if he were a baby again. They all hurried then to the cruiser, and the officer unlocked the back door, allowing John and Sam to slip inside. Dean raced around the other side and sat in the passenger seat. The officer got in and turned on his sirens and lights. John felt his tears release when they were left in the darkness of the back seat, his tears dripping slowly off his nose like the rain had earlier in the day. He'd been hunting a spirit at the other end of the county when his son had called. He'd just finished burning the bones and was about to head out for an early early breakfast, but that hadn't happened, so his stomach was subconsciously growling as they drove through the once silent town to the hospital.

Again? How is it that Sam keeps getting hurt?! More importantly, who could've done this to him?! He'd have a bone to pick with his elder son about his absence through the whole predicament later... these thoughts raced around in his head as they pulled up yet again to the ER. He hated his son had to go through this. He'd been through more things in two days than John had in a couple of years. A pair of EMTs rushed over to his side of the car with a gurney, insisting on taking his son on from there, but John wasn't ready to let go. His shaking hands kept Sam pressed against him, blood soaking his clothes like rain. When he looked down he found Sam's face to be paler than he'd remembered it being in the motel room. He was fading all too fast - perhaps he should...let go. Suddenly, and without further question, he let his son slip from his arms and onto the gurney where the EMTs fastened him down in record timing.

They wheeled him in, the son and father close on their heels. Once inside, they disappeared into an ER room down the hallway he'd been in before, and John and Dean were held back and told to wait until they were allowed in to see Sam. So they waited rather anxiously in the now familiar waiting room, twiddling their thumbs and tapping their feet. The blood had stuck thickly to both their clothes so well, but now it was dripping from them a creating small puddles on the luminous floor below them. A janitor meandered by and gave them a dirty look.

After several hours of waiting and far too many cups of coffee later, they were finally able to go see him. Their breathe hitched in the back of their throats when they entered the room; among all the monitors galore and IV bags hanging around like vines in a jungle, laid a small body covered in bandages off the wazoo. The only parts of his face that was visible were his eyes and mouth, which hung open slightly with tubes snaking into it. His chest rose much smoother than it had when Dean had found him earlier, which slightly calmed his nerves for the moment. They walked in and stopped at the end of his bed. They'd been informed that Sam was still under from stitches and such, so they could talk to him all they liked, they just wouldn't get any answers anytime soon.

The doctor they'd seen merely two days ago strutted in, his nose held high and a smirk slipping off his lips when they turned to look at him; he could go ahead and laugh it up because it wasn't their money he was licking up from the floor - what else are stolen credit cards for? He consulted his almighty clipboard and clucked his tongue.

"Well I'm sorry to say, , that your son was gravely injured. It would be a menace to his health if we let you take him anytime before he's ready, which means we'll have to be keeping him under our wing for at least five to six more weeks." he announced abruptly, probably itching to get the serious part out of the way so he could skip to m' lou to the money part. John gripped the edge of the bed post to steady himself like he may topple over from the weight of it all. He drew in a ragged breathe.

"Is..isn't there any way to speed his recovery? Can't you all do something?! Is this just it?!" he hissed at the doctor, hostility dripping from his voice. The doctor shook his head and chortled.

"Now now, , you know what they say "Time heals all wounds". I believe it would be very shrewd to follow by that. Your son seems to be a pretty tough kid - he'll come around." the doctor answered earnestly. John's lips tightened but he nodded in solemn agreement. Dean couldn't pull his eyes away from his little brother - he looked broken like a porcelain china doll that had been dropped from several feet in the air, cracks covering its body as someone tried putting it back together with scotch tape. The doctor let them know they could have a few more minutes with Sam, then they'd be pulled out to discuss visiting times to come see Sam.

Of course the Winchesters weren't all too sure what to say. Dean went to the right side of the bed and just kind of stood and stared at the crumpled boy. It wasn't too long until a nurse appeared, and words still hadn't come to mind. They were ushered out of the room like dust with a broom, and the nurse pulled them aside near the front desk to discuss visiting hours as mentioned before. The father and son were unsure how anything would work out in the end though. They couldn't stick around in the same town for too long - it'd been a couple months or something like that already - jobs were popping up all the time in surrounding counties and states in which they felt obligated to attend to. John hated to think of leaving his son unattended in the hospital with hardly any visits, but in all reality, it troubled him further to think of all the lives he could be saving while they were having their little domestic. He loved his son very much and would do anything for him, but things needed to be tended to. The world was like a garden, and all the bad in it was like the weeds, crawling out from the depths of the Earth to reek havoc on the lesser kinds to survive against them. Hunters were like the weed spray, gnawing at the weeds all they could to make them shrivel back into the hole they came from. Their business was vital to the existence of the people they defend. It was their duty, and as the old saying goes, "A hunters gotta do whatta hunters gotta do." plays nicely into explain the nature of their work. After all, saving people and hunting things was a part of the Winchester family business.

After 'setting things up', they were allowed a few more minutes with Sam before they were forced to leave him again and 'go about their business', as fitting as that sounds, though the staff of the hospital would never know. Upon drifting into the room once more, they found a boy - the boy who Dean had let into their apartment - leaning fairly close to Sam's face - too close for the father and brother's comfort. Yet they stayed frozen at the doorway as the boy leaned closer and pecked a timid kiss on Sam's pale cheek. The boy suddenly leapt backwards, knocking into one of the IV bag poles and almost tipping it over. A small mouse-like weep escaped his lips when his eyes turned for the door to find it occupied. Dean and John didn't notice the other boy anymore though, for Sam's own eyes were wide open, his expression remaining placid. His heart meter picked up almost immediately as if he had no idea where he was and why tubes were hanging over him.

Then came the uncontrollable coughing as his body - and quite obviously throat - responded to the presence of the tubes snaking into his mouth and nose - it seemed they were rejected their residency. John and Dean yelped for help almost as soon as this whole tribulation occurred, leaving the gawk-eyed boy to slump helplessly into the visitors chair that was sat conveniently behind him. Nurses poured in through the door, and the doctor from before scooted in behind them. Dean, John, and the other kid were shoved out of the room and out of the way by a few rent-a-secretaries, their bright lipstick and perfumed hair ceasing over the three of them and dousing them in loudly proclaimed apologies and unkempt promises. All they wanted to do was see if Sam was OK. John had so many 'have a word with you's" in his book then that he wasn't sure when he'd fit time in his schedule to deliver them all. He merely wanted everything to be set straight with him - is that too much to ask?

Things remained quite heated for at least another hour, and all the while John paced back and forth in front of the waiting room's ceiling to floor window which showcased the rather dull and dimly lit outside world. Dean sat nearby next to the boy, both keeping their mouths shut no matter how much they wanted to blab about everything to the obviously irritated man pacing in front of them. The boy - Dean eventually recalled his name to be Gabriel - sat rigidly with his lips pressed tightly together like a sealed dam just waiting to burst. Dean occasionally threw a smirk at the boy, finding that he received none of them, for Gabe's eyes were finely trained on his ratty converses which he could have fooled anyone to believe he felt were the center of his universe. He moved them slightly against the polished floor, intently watching as the lights above them cast down and shined on them in all their lackluster.

"Mr. Winchester?" a small yet demanding voice echoed through the nearly empty waiting room from a woman near the entryway to the ER. John's head snapped towards her and his pacing halted - for the time being, of course. "Yes?" he answered anxiously, wringing his hands.

"Your son is awake now if you'd like to speak with him - briefly, mind you - he still needs a lot of rest, and the best way to achieve that is as little human interaction as he can handle." she informed them, and the two boys stood simultaneously.

The three of them hurried to Sam's new room by following the nurse who'd called for them. Tensions ran high as they turned into a much more comfortable room just down the hall from his old room. One of the ceiling light's covers were replaced by the relaxing image of a moderately cloudy afternoon, the puffy cumulus clouds sticking to one place as the light behind it shone through as an artificial sun. It was needed now only because the real sun was just clocking in and it wasn't quite bright enough to safely maneuver throughout the room without tripping over something.

There on the bed sat Sam, his head helpfully propped up by several pillows and a smooth comforter had been laid over top of him from the chest down, his arms overlapping the lip of it. A pleasant though tired look was cast over his still pale face, and nearly the same look was mirrored by the three people who'd just stepped through his door. He'd been apprehensively awaiting their arrival ever since he was moved into the new room with a renewed mind.

"Dad, Dean...Gabe? What are you doing here?" he asked quizzically, his question purely curious and contained no hostility or rejection - a fabulous sign to Gabe, of course. Gabe scuffed his feet on the floor as his eyes wandered downward once more, a blush blooming onto his cheeks which did with little success attempt to contain his ever growing smile.

"I...I heard...saw...uhm, you were badly hurt so I came and...my brother knows I'm here...if you don't mind..." he stuttered nervously through his explanation. Sam giggled like the little kid Dean had grown to love and care for, and the pure golden sound of it brought a smile to his face as well as a small grin to his father's. They all moved in around Sam's bed, surrounding it contently like that awkward scene at the end of Lord of The Rings: Return of The King when Frodo wakes up in Rivendale and everything is kind of creepy with Gandalf and everyone laughing in slow-mo and - well you get what I'm trying to analogize to.

"Sammy - what happened exactly? I thought when I left you it was with good intentions!" he bumped his fist playfully into Sam's shoulder, though his words were filled with sincerity. Sam merely grinned shyly and shook his head.

"You did. I thought so too! It was more my fault than yours or Gabe's - I promise, Dad, please don't blame them - it really was particularly my fault. I forgot to lock the door when Gabe left..." his shining eyes shifted to their father's and he pulled his all famous puppy dog look; whether this face was pulled on purpose or not, no one would ever know for sure. John was forced to look away when it seemed to become to powerful. Dean swore his little brother could get places in life with that one look, but Sam would always laugh and shake his head in disagreement anytime Dean pointed it out.

The sun outside peeked through the shades, and the lights above them began to feel rather unnecessary. The cloudy blue sky light covers would soon be turned off and the real deal would be switched on outside. Clouds would be rolling by after the small rain storm the other afternoon, and they would eventually give way to the blue that would always be hiding sheepishly behind them.

"So what happened, Sam?" John asked a few moments later after spending several in a comfortable silence. Sam tilted his head to think, a focused look washing over his face as he did his best to recall what had happened.

"Well, Gabe left, and like I said, I forgot to lock the door out of pure accident. I was sitting in bed watching TV, and several hours later the door bursts open all of a sudden and there's this man standing there. He had a gun in one hand and a switch blade in the other, and his face was covered with a ski mask and his eyes were shaded by aviators. I think his hair was kinda butch cut. Anyways, he doesn't say anything at first, but he starts walking towards me. I ask him what's going on like and other rational kid would when someone breaks into their motel room, and he says he knows what I am...and that the gig is up. He...he started slashing my face with his knife - then he held me down on the bed and started cutting at my belly. All of a sudden though his lackey or whoever said that someone was coming and to finish the job already. In that time he wasn't watching me, I pulled that knife I'd known was under your pillow, Dean, and slashed it at his face, causing the mask to rip and he miscalculated his last plunge with the knife, as it was meant for my heart, but instead it sunk into my shoulder. Apparently it was you, Dean, who was the one that was coming. If it hadn't been for you I would've been upstairs by now. Thank you." he concluded breathlessly, his eyes sparkling with tears that had wandered into his eye through his whole spiel. John, Dean, and Gabe gawked in awe at the young boy laying before them in the bed, and Dean leaned over and hugged him as easily though meaningfully as he could. "No problem little bro." he whispered reverently into his kid brother's ear before pulling away. Sam grinned up at him, the lacerations on his face looking painful to be stretching when he did so, but he didn't seem to notice - nothing was going to restrain him from expressing his love and gratitude to the three of them.

It was much too soon when the nurse came to ask them to leave Sam, as the father and brother knew this would be the last time for a week or two that they'd be able to visit him. Once they'd departed from Sam's room and headed for the main lobby, John turned to Gabe and put a caring hand on his shoulder.

"If its not too much to ask, I'd wish for-"

"Of course I'll visit him every chance I get. To be honest, I would've done that even if you hadn't ask me to." the boy interrupted almost immediately, and John grinned, thankful for the boy - even if he'd kissed his own. John believed love was love though, and wasn't to particular about what had happened. He did think it was funny how Sleeping Beauty-esque the whole thing had tied up to be. The older man shook his head and pulled his hand off of the boy's shoulder, and they continued walking. Dean disappeared for a moment, then reappeared with three hot chocolates. He handed them out to each of them and as the sliding doors opened to let them out, the cold winter air slipped in through every kink of their armor and chilled their skin and bones, raising chill bumps respectively. They all sipped their drinks as they were swept out the doors with the muy frio air.

A slick white convertible Mustang was sitting near the entrance with gross black smoke billowing out of the tail pipe like a miniature smoke stack on its side. On the inside was the beautiful boy Dean had...visited just that night. His hair was washed and slicked back just like his pristine car. A toothpick stuck out of his mouth, and he skillfully maneuvered it around between his teeth with his tasteful lips. Dean ripped his gaze of Cas and blinked hard as Gabe waved at him for what had seemed not the first time in the past few moments he'd spaced out. He muttered and apology and waved back, averted his eyes from the drivers side as Gabe climbed in the passengers seat. They drove away. John and Dean were left to go on their business. Hooray, Dean uttered inwardly as they both hopped into the Impala and finally drove away; as they did so, Dean never took his eyes off the hospital until it disappeared as they rounded a corner and it slipped from the side mirror's view.

My (Sam's) Hospital Journal (because what the fuck else am I supposed to do laying around in a damn hospital)

Three. Damn. Weeks. I've been here for three freakin' weeks. What a life. I've missed not only a shit ton of school, but my goddamn family too. They haven't come to see me since they dropped me off here. Its been very pleasant seeing Gabe, of course - we've gotten rather close...I won't go into that just yet - but its just not the same, ya know? Right. So, I get hurt and they just dump my ass here?! Unfair, like what am I, chopped liver?! CANADA?! I'm not sure if I'm getting worked up about nothing here, but being kept in bed 24/7 doesn't exactly improve my mood. I try being nice when Gabe is here though. I'm not that evil. He's nice..and sweet, handsome...loyal, that's for sure. A great friend. What if something happened to Dean and/or my father? I hate to think how they may by laying face down in a ditch somewhere while I'm laying here and snacking on pre chewed burgers. I'm sure Dean would love the food here...he seems notorious for liking strange and or terrible foods when no one else would. He's strange and or terrible sometimes too though; you are what you eat, right.

So lemmi talk about Gabe now. He came in the other day with...hold onto your seats...

roses and candy...yeah. It was Valentines Day and he'd asked me if I wanted to be his. What am I supposed to do, say no? He's so precious *cue Gollum* I couldn't turn him down. And I thought I had kawaii persuasive powers. I wonder if he thinks I don't remember feeling that kiss on my cheek three weeks back. Ha.

~Sam NoMiddleNameBecauseIGuessMyParentsDidn'tBelieveInThem Winchester

Sam leaned back in his bed for the billionth time and folded the cover over his journal, running his fingers over the intricate patterns which were indented. Spirals and polka dots swirled around the front cover, the blacks and reds putting on a show of darkness and deception that he'd always..always felt in his heart and soul. It was a curious and dangerous pair of feelings, and there were instances where he resented feeling them, while others embraced it. How else are serial killers born?

It was nearing the time when Gabe would peep his head around the door frame and smile wide when he saw Sam still sitting there waiting to get better so he could leave the godforsaken place. His birthday was in three days, and Gabe had been buzzing about to his brothers and sisters for quite a while - or at least since Sam had told him when he'd asked a week into his elongated stay at the hospital.

"Saaaaaaammmyy" a small wispy voice muttered, the voice quiet and low as leaves blowing in the wind. Sam looked to the door to find just the kid he was thinking about. He blushed.

"Hey, Gabe! Come on in." he ushered the other boy with a relaxed wave of his hand. Gabe slipped around and slunk into the room like he was pretending to be ninja. Sam rolled his eyes and scooted over some in his bed to make room for the other strange boy. Gabe had done as he'd promised to visit Sam as often as he could - which ended up being everyday. Sam had been surprised at first, but he quickly got used to Gabe's frequent and continuously interesting visits. He definitely kept Sam busy when he did show up.

"What's the word, Gabe?" Sam asked eagerly, referring to their discussion from the day before about the possibility of their school closing for a while due to asbestos. Gabe grinned haughtily and rubbed his bony hands together after noting that it was a shortened version of his name. Sam shook his head in shame of hearing that, of course.

"Well, from what I've heard the top dogs of the school have been snooping around the principal's office recently and they heard that it would be closed for nearly a month or two! Exciting, right?!" he squeezed his eyes shut and pumped a small fist into the air in triumph. Sam laughed and clapped his hands, the room growing brighter in spirit as they did so.

Then there was a slight pause as their laughter died away and they were left to either look at each other or somewhere else. Lately, Gabe had been avoiding Sam's gaze for certain reasons unbeknownst to Sam, and he was doing the same to Gabe. It seemed to be a never ending line of loops; if they wanted to progress any in their relationship, they were going to have to find that knot at the end of the line.

"Hey, Sam, has something been wrong cause I feel like there's been this odd translucent brick wall between us for the past week or so..." Gabe came out from the blanket of growing tense they were almost being forced under to ask him. Sam looked taken aback from the question at first, but then his muscles retracted and relaxed as if he'd been prepared for a much more difficult to answer question. His lips turned up into a casual smile which Gabe didn't return, causing his smile to drop. The wave of emotions was rocking the ship back and forth, and these two crewmen were quite unsure how much longer they could make it without puking off the starboard.

"Look, Gabe, I'm not sure what you're talking about. Maybe you think this since I'm stuck in a hospital bed and you get to roam free. I don't know, and I don't care. I just know that I love having you near me and you-" he paused, his words getting sucked back into his mouth before he rambled on any farther. A small shy smile appeared on Gabe's lips and a chuckle escaped. Sam raised an eyebrow, but allowed himself to smile anyways.

"What?!"

"You- you actually love having me near you!? That's almost like you're trying to say..." Gabe paused this time, knowing he would be unable to swallow his words correctly like Sam had; it was obvious the other boy had had practice. The room grew quiet again, and the blanket began to reappear over them. Gabe had had enough though. He wanted to set things straight (lol or not) with Sam, once and for all.

"Sam, I know this is way too forward, but I can't say I can keep my feeling buried deep inside my bottomless soul anymore. I-" before he could finish his declaration, the door slammed open, and in the doorway stood Dean and John, their hair freshly preened and their faces covered in healing bruises and scars that looked to be a week or so old. Gabe screamed inwardly at them for ruining the moment. Bastards.

Sam called out to them and Dean rushed into the boys arms. That was supposed to be where I was gonna be after my proclamation. I knew I should've told him yesterday, Gabe thought, disgust oozing off his words. John meandered behind, a light smile protruding from his bushy facial hair. Gabe was now the fourth wheel. Again.

"I'm so sorry we didn't come sooner, Sammy, there was this one monster and...well, its not important anymore. We're here now, and you'll never guess what the doctor said!" Dean exclaimed, his face bright and shining at the mere sight of his broad smiling little brother. Sam asked him what.

"He said we could take you away from this crack town and drive into the sunset together! You hear that, little bro?! We can travel together again! You're well enough to be rid of this shi- crap bed." Dean added several times to reiterate what a 'slum-like town' it was, stopping himself from swearing to harshly for no good reason in front of his father and Gabe; Sam didn't care if Dean cussed - hell he did it himself enough times.

He didn't think the town was that bad - after all, Gabe lived there. Gabe...Sam had been aching to know what was on his mind and nearly ripped his hair out when the door had opened to interrupt him. So, after a few more minutes of greeting and such, Sam asked an odd favor to his family.

"Hey, you guys, could you stand outside for just a moment? I need to talk to Gabe really quickly before you all are forced to leave." Sam asked politely, and the other three's eyes went wide and curious at the request. They agreed otherwise. Soon Gabe and Sam were again alone.

"Now, what were you going to tell me?" Sam asked anxiously, his eyes yearning to know. Gabe sighed and looked away.

"I..I was going to say that I...I really like you you know, and..I mean I really like like you. If you get what I mean..." Gabe half-answered slowly, his mind reeling like a run away train in his head. He couldn't look at Sam. Sam's eyes grew wide and then relaxed with the total realization fitted neatly in his head now.

"You mean you...you love me? Hey...hey, look at me!" Sam ordered softly, tilting Gabe's chin up to have his eyes meet his own. There was a wild and curious smile on his face and his eyes presented the same enamored expressions. Gabe's irises grew and his heartbeat picked up in exhilaration. Sam's eyelids moved slowly as he leaned forward, closing the gap between them and pressing his lips against Gabe's - his were cracked and dry from the cold outside which was ever so leisurely dwindling into spring. The kiss was ginger and ended after a few moments of shock. When Sam pulled away from Gabe, the other boy's face was red as a tomato from the experience. Gabe wanted to kiss Sam again (after wetting his lips, of course, which he was consciously doing at that moment). Sam smiled wildly at Gabe's face.

"Truth is, I kinda feel the same way. I wasn't sure until that day you showed up at the motel room. You have to admit that the fact you found where I lived was kind of creepy - though a little sexy in my opinion." he joked with a chuckle. Gabe laughed along and ran a hand through Sam's ruffled hair. He ended up pulling Sam back to him and their lips rejoined in an awkward, though totally kawaii and passionate kiss. Sam realized Gabe was going to need a little work on kissing because he wasn't exactly the best, but he'd do for now. They both smiled as they kissed, and the door opened a tad (unbeknownst to them).

Dean peeked in before walking in on them again and smiled crazily when he saw the two boys. It warmed his heart to see his brother finally happy to be with someone - he sure deserved it. The two boys eventually broke apart, but their foreheads remained pressed together as they caught their breaths. Dean quickly pulled the door closed with an ecstatic grin and knocked lightly. There was a small 'come in!' from inside, and when Dean opened the door again, the boys had moved a respectable amount away from each other. John moved around Dean and went to his younger son.

Dean then reminded himself that the sudden bond the two boys now shared would soon be stressed to the extent of extinction. His mood plummeted, and when his eyes landed on Gabe watched Sam talking to his father about his condition, his smile also faltered and his gaze was redirected to his hands as he began to pick at one of his many hangnails. The one he'd picked at looked near to bursting with blood if he picked at it anymore.

Sam's nurse appeared then, a clipboard in his hands - his clipboard looked less menacing than the doctor's. His usual warm smile comforted Sam a bit when his gaze found him beyond his father's shoulder. Everyone turned to the nurse who greeted them with are hearty 'hello'.

"If you'd like to sign these release papers for Sam, we can get that out of the way. You can take him home in two days after we've given him some time in the therapy room. He's been a very wonderful patient and I hope to see him again - except, not in these circumstances." he added quickly with an exuberant chuckle. John grinned politely at the man and nodded his approval to start the paper work. Gabe, on the other hand, was getting up from the bed. Sam turned his smiling face to the boy, but the expression dropped when he saw Gabe was leaving.

"Where are you going?" he asked quietly as Dean went with his father to not only help with the paper work but also give the boys more time together - as much as they could before...

"You'll be leaving...we can't...I can't be near you anymore. This-" he gestured to him and then Sam several times, "-this won't work, Sammy, I'm sorry." he vaguely explained as he continued to back away. Sam's eyebrows lifted and a frown molded itself onto his lips. He tossed the covers from his body and revealed his pale legs which he pushed over the side of the bed.

"Please don't leave me! I need you! I..I...I love you!" he exclaimed suddenly, his small voice filling the room with dejection and heartbreak."You can't just come to me expressing all these hidden feelings and kiss me, then leave and expect me to forget everything and move on with my life! You can't do that, Gabe, its not fair!" he growled fiercely, his eyes watering. Gabe gulped his own tears down and shook his head.

"If there was some way we could stay together then sure, Sam - but how do you see us working if we never see each other again?! I don't think I can go a day without hearing your voice and seeing your beautiful fucking face without going NUTS!" he cried out, his small hands clenched into tight fists as his back faced the other boy. A pair of arms wrapped around his waist, causing goose bumps to rise on his skin. Sam's head rested on his shoulder as he pulled him closer to his stomach.

"We'll figure something out, OK? Don't worry..." he whispered into Gabe's ear and a tear escaped from Gabe's closed eyes. He took in Sam's scent, trying to memorize it. He smelled like hospital - alright so not the most productive way to memorize someone's smell considering he guess Sam didn't and wouldn't smell like that when he was admitted out of the hospital. His hair, he could tell though, smelled sharply of mint (and not the gross tablets you get in a packet that's like candy, but like pure mint you'd find growing in some prestigious English flower garden).

Gabe wished they could've stayed standing like that forever, but another knock came from the door and Sam's arms immediately slipped from Gabe, taking his warmth and comfort with him, making Gabe feel cold inside again. Dean popped his head in the door and grinned at Sam.

"Hey, we've got everything set up - sorry Gabe they told me to tell you its time to leave - Sam has to start his therapy right away." Dean's voice and face displaying his utter sorrow for splitting them up so soon into their newly found relationship. Gabe turned and waved wholeheartedly at Sam and scooted out the door past Dean. Dean watched the boy drudge down the hallway and turn the corner. He returned to Sam's room and muttered his goodbye. Sam nodded with a sad smile and the door was closed once more.

Two days later

"Well, Sam Winchester, it looks like you're all healed up! I'm impressed with the rate you healed at, and to be honest, didn't think it was possible when I first saw your charts a few days ago. As soon as your father and brother arrive, you can head home! Congratulations!" his nurse, Mark, had exclaimed after he'd successfully finished his last day of therapy. Sam produced a fake smile, but hugged Mark with true emotion - he was grateful to have such a wonderful nurse. Mark hugged back and his chest vibrated from laughter.

"Thank you for all the support and help you've given me over these past few weeks - I appreciate every bit of it. You're a great guy, Mark. Anybody who has you as a nurse should be gratified. I'm gonna miss you." he said earnestly, his fake smile being replaced with an honest, smaller smile. Mark's pager suddenly went off and he threw his head back with an overly frustrated groan. He rolled his eyes exasperatedly and patted Sam's back as he pulled the beeper out to silence it and see the big emergency. His eyes widened slightly.

"Oh! Looks like they just wanted me to let you know your family is here. They're down in the lobby, so I'll go great them if you wanna pack some of your stuff up." he suggested, and Sam nodded with a sad smile on his face. They hugged once more and headed off on their own separate ways.

Sam arrived at his room and pulled his journal from underneath his pillow - it was nearly filled to the brim with three and a half weeks worth of his jumbled words. Flipping through the pages he realized that the further he got the more Gabe's name appeared. Gabe. He desperately wished to see him again - he hadn't visited Sam since that faithful day his father and brother had showed up and they'd both proclaimed their undying love to each other, and it was slowly killing him on the inside. He yearned to feel him again, to smell his delectable scent of cinnamon and apples and to taste his candy tasting lips. His body may be healed, but his heart was far from.

He finished packing a few other things and tossed the bag - which Mark had gotten for him himself after he'd learned Sam basically had nothing, which was how Sam had obtained the journal - over his shoulder. He bit his lip and tugged the door open to find Gabe standing there. Before Sam could even say hello, Gabe tackled him and pressed their lips together. Sam slid the bag off his shoulder and kissed back. For some reason Gabe seemed better at kissing than he did before, and Sam decided not to care how the other boy had come about that.

They embraced each other and shared the emotionally intense moment for half a minute longer and began gasping for air when they broke apart, laughing all the while.

"I love you, so much." Gabe heatedly whispered, his mouth inches from Sam's as their breathing slowed. "You may be leaving me, but I will always be right with you in your heart - sorry that sounds really cheesy and totally cliche, but I want you to know its true." Gabe chuckled and Sam kissed him again. Between kisses Sam muttered, "I already knew that, you idiot", causing Gabe to laugh which broke off the kiss. They hugged for a minute or so, breathing each other in.

"Well, I guess I should get moving. I'm sure dad and Dean are waiting rather impatiently for me." Sam announced sadly, and he picked his bag up from the floor and shrugged it back onto his shoulder. Gabe grabbed Sam's hand and nervously pushed something onto his finger. It was a golden ring that resembled the one from Lord of The Rings, including the two lined verse from the ancient poem. It fit on his right hand ring finger perfectly. Sam noticed Gabe had one on his hand too.

"I remember that time we spent a whole visiting time blabbering on and on about the Hobbit and Lotr, and couldn't help myself. I hoped you could wear it to remember me by." he explained shyly, his thumb unconsciously twisting his own ring like an old habit. Sam hugged Gabe tightly again and told him he loved it.

"I could never forget you anyways, you know. I'll make it my duty to come and see you every once and a while, you know." he promised him as they pulled away, a tear cascading down Sam's face. Gabe smiled.

"Come on, your family is probably starting to worry about you." he ushered his new found love down the hallway, his hand on the small of his back. They entered the lobby area and found John leaning against the reception desk and chatting it up with the lady behind it. Gabe had come to know her fairly well and she smiled warmly at him when she spotted them approaching. John smiled sadly at the two of them, but they showed no sadness. They knew they'd never truly be apart. John thanked the lady behind the desk and laid a large hand on Gabe's shoulder like he'd done just a few weeks ago.

"I wanna thank you for looking after our Sammy, Gabriel. It means a lot for me to know he's being well looked after. I'm sure this won't be the last time we see you." he assured the boy, and he patted his back. Gabe smiled widely up at the man and nodded in appreciation. "I think so too, sir." he answered bouncily.

Sam and him shared one last hug and when Dean returned from the snack area with a coffee for their father, he caught his father's attention and turned him for just long enough that Sam and Gabe could share one last frugal kiss as well. Sam would have to thank him later for that.

Then they were heading out the door, leaving Gabe behind. Castiel was running a little late today and would be there a few minutes after the family had already left. Sam turned to wave as the glass doors smoothly shut behind him. Gabe waved back, his ring catching in the light that filtered in through the nearby windows. The receptionist, who's name was Lily, awed at Gabe when she realized him and Sam now presented matching rings.

"I'm sorry to hear he's moving away. You two seem to be very great friends...or a couple now?" she wandered aloud. Together, he let the word escape his lips as Sam disappeared from view. A piece of Gabriel's heart was gone, and it wouldn't nor couldn't be replaced because it was with Sam now, no doubtfully trying its best to fill the hole which his heart had. He missed the boy already.

Sam's gaze washed over a picture in his hands as the engine of the Impala roared in the background. It was a picture Mark had taken of Gabe and him when they'd decided to watch the movie Twister and Gabe had fallen asleep curled up on Sam. It warmed his heart to find it still pressed tightly in between pages at the middle of his journal.

He didn't know where they were headed, but he knew he would always end up back with Gabe. His heart belonged to the other boy know, and no one could change that. No one.

They were together, though apart.

The late afternoon sun shone brightly in sky, and the trees they passed had snow sitting atop their branches from a recent flurry, reminding him of when his brother had first walked him to school that one day. The only day he'd gone to school. The past few weeks after he'd been admitted into the hospital for his severe injuries Dean and their father had gone searching for the hunters which had attacked and nearly killed him. They hadn't found him, so they figured it had been high time they visit Sam.

Dean had explained all of this to Sam as they sat in the car a state or so over while their dad got gas for the car and some snacks for the road. Dean said he wasn't sure where they were going either, and that dad would tell them when he told them, causing Sam to get a little heated about the whole 'its confidential' deal with their father - it had always gotten on his nerves.

"Patience, Sammy, patience." Dean hissed, his voice revealing agitation, as their dad opened the door and climbed back inside. He twisted the key in the ignition and the Impala roared to life, and the radio kicked back on, blaring Black Sabbath's War Pigs. They pulled out of the gas station and Dean offered Sam a granola bar dad had gotten one of them, and Sam declined it though his stomach ached for food. Dean glared at him and threw it, not caring if his little brother caught it or not - he knew Sam was starving. Sam picked it up from the floor and unwrapped it, trying to hold in his savagery when his mouth began to water at the first bite, the honey and nuts mixing their flavors harmoniously in his mouth. The taste reminded him of how Gabe's breath would smell when he'd come visit him. He would get off from school and come to see Sam as soon as he could, but on the way he would scarf down a granola bar similar to the one Sam was currently eating because he ate first lunch which was earlier in the day.

Sam savored the bar, not eating all of it in fear he would loose the memory and its scent. He pulled out his journal and began to reminisce, flipping the pages and laughing inwardly at his daily rants about the dumbest of things. He missed it. Every bit of it.

After reading through it all and staring out the window a while, they arrived at yet another motel. Sam sighed as he carried his bags into the new room and plopped himself on a bed. It all looked totally different from their last room but he didn't mind much. Although his personal hospital room had been nice enough, he'd been getting surprisingly tired of it. His family was a nomadic family, after all.

He found the remote to the TV and turned it on, the show that was already running called "Supernatural". What a stupid name for a TV show, Sam thought, changing it to a tennis tournament. For some reason he enjoyed the dullness of two people hitting a small ball back and forth. He also liked how whenever one side lost, the player would hold up their racket and glare at it and pluck its woven strings like it was the problem all along; silly tennis people.

He watched TV for a long time while his brother and dad went out to get food to stock up for the next week or so that they'd be staying there. It was hard to believe how everything was simply going back to normal as if the past weeks had never ever occurred. He'd probably be quickly enrolled in yet another school for about two or three weeks, and then they'd be gone again, swept up in the wind with a new case.

Sam found himself staring at the ring Gabe had given him, and he lazily twirled it on his finger. He could never forget about Gabe, even if he tried (which he wasn't sure why he would). He would see him again someday, which was enough to keep him going.

Fighting the fight to get back to my sweetheart at home.

I want to thank everyone for reading and hope it was worth your while. :) I deeply enjoyed writing this and also hope you all liked it enough. If I get enough suggestions or reads on this I may write a sequel...if ya like...

:D33 with love,

~Carrie


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